


Mind Melt on Rye

by Swiggity_swydra_fuck_hydra (Haych_Aych_Ach)



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: BDSM, Dubcon ?, Humiliation, Hypnosis, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Praise Kink, Self-Hatred, Subspace, mentions of past unhealthy sexual relationships, self-hypnosis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-01
Updated: 2016-01-01
Packaged: 2018-05-10 23:22:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5604787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Haych_Aych_Ach/pseuds/Swiggity_swydra_fuck_hydra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for a prompt on the Daredevil kink meme: </p><p>"So Matt's always been into hypnosis and subbing, and he really wants to for Frank, but he can't quite let go/calm down/relax enough for it to work, it's a struggle, and the kinky sex is supposed to be a release for both of them--Frank gets to focus on just making someone happy and come and be good, and Matt gets to focus on just following orders. </p><p>So Matt uses hypnosis on himself (either thru sites that allow you to download hypnosis files like vive hypnosis, or by getting Frank to hypnotize him) to induce a state of complete relaxed happy calm horniness with Frank whenever Frank uses the trigger."</p><p>Link: http://daredevilkink.dreamwidth.org/6237.html?thread=12212829#cmt12212829</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mind Melt on Rye

**Author's Note:**

> TW for discussion of nuanced consent--Matt in his non-hypnotized state gives consent for hypnotized!Matt, and there's also safeties worked in so if Frank does things he genuinely objects to, the hypnosis wears off instantly.
> 
> Disclaimer: the actions characters take in this story, the things they are into, and how they behave is not a reflection on the author or commenter/reader's own beliefs, interests, morals, personality, etc. Fiction is fiction. What some characters like to do and what they think is right is not necessarily correlating with reality or truth, etc.

Matt sighed to himself.  
  
He was looking for resources on getting into a deeper subspace. The problem with having sex with Frank was, right now, Matt, which sucked. Matt was very often The Problem, but usually not with sex.  
  
Granted, he'd never tried to have sex like this with anyone else before, or with someone whose modus operandi still made him cringe internally at the sheer horrible wrongness of it, but he refused to give up. He was a Murdock. They got back up.  
  
So here he was, searching for ways to let his brain calm down and hand control over to Frank, when he came across something intriguing.  
  
On a forum, one of the members mentioned that she had used hypnotic files to induce a state of calm for sex. She added that she used to drink beforehand and use some strong anti-anxiety medications, but that hypnosis was safer because you could build in triggers that would snap you out of the hazy calm immediately, unlike with drugs.  
  
Matt considered drugs briefly, but he was already dreading his two-year checkup and trying to explain away the bruises and healed ribs without having the doctor suspect he was in some sort of fight club. Having to ask for benzos on top of that, along with Matt's aversion to most mind-altering drugs...no. And alcohol wasn't something that would make him loosen up, either, not around Frank. Plus he didn't think Frank liked drunk or tipsy sex, either.  
  
So Matt started investigating hypnosis files, and found one that caught his ear right away. It was called _A Good Night's Sleep_ and purportedly gave you the ability to have a good night's sleep after listening to it, though it had an add-on that you could download as well to have specifically wet dreams and start to associate sex with hypnosis.  
  
Matt frowned to himself, triple-checked the site's reviews, and downloaded it. It was free, after all, and he was very skeptical about how well it would work in the first place. So he put headphones on in his pajamas in his bed and started the file, thinking that he might sleep a little better than usual.  
  
The next morning, he woke up refreshed and hard, thinking vaguely of gossamer hands holding him down and fucking him. Matt grinned as he got ready for work.  
  
He was going to rock Frank's whole world.  
  
\--  
  
Over the next two weeks, Matt made a schedule and listened to steadily more files. The ones he did more than six times were, in particular, _Cock Addiction_ and _Anal Desire_ and _Submissive Mindset_. Others included _Plugged Up_ , _Letting Go of Anxiety_ , _Giving Up Control_ and _Submissive Sexuality Restructure_. All of them together created a concert of positive reinforcement and suggestions in Matt's mind that came together to let him create a headspace that made him feel soft and heavy-limbed and horny and empty, deeply wanting to be fucked and bossed around. It was going to make the sex with Frank _amazing_ , he knew for a fact.  
  
Matt had just tested out the triggers to come out of the state, and then packed up an overnight bag for Friday to Saturday, including several toys he'd found himself buying, wriggled his ass down onto a nicely heavy small glass plug, made sure nobody saw him, and slipped into one of Frank's safehouses to wait.

* * *

 

Matt got himself comfortable on the couch, waiting for Frank to come back; he'd texted him which safehouse, and gotten himself a glass of water, and laid down. It was difficult to convince himself to not startle, not tense up in anticipation of a fight, but his body and him always disagreed, and Matt always came out on top.  
  
Frank walked in, slowly took off most of his guns and his knives, triple-checked the security of everything, then slowly removed his armor and everything but a last knife and his pants. Matt's mouth watered a little at the smell of his cock. Good. It meant the suggestions were becoming more and more a part of him already.  
  
Frank said, gruffly, "You said you had a sexy surprise?" He says it like other people say _tax reform_. Matt resists the urge to nervously laugh.  
  
"Yeah," he said, and made himself sit up and go forward to sit down, facing Frank so he could kiss him and be kissed. Making out was something they had managed to work up to. "I was looking up how to be a better sub--"  
  
"You don't have to," Frank immediately said.  
  
Matt put a finger against his lips, and continued, "I _want_ to. Anyway, I looked up some tips, and came across some very interesting things."  
  
"The point, Matt...?"  
  
Matt shivered a little at the irritation in the tone. "Hypnosis."  
  
"What."  
  
Well, that's not quite the welcome reception he had been hoping for.  
  
"It's all good stuff," Matt assured him. "Nothing permanent or damaging or evil or brainwashing. All good things. Just helping me relax, letting me get into a better mindset to be ordered around and like it."  
  
Frank goes stiff and unhappy beneath him. Matt winced and added, "Look, what about this sounds bad to you?"  
  
"The part where you have to _alter your mind_ to relax around me," Frank growled. "And the part where you just removed your ability to actually consent."  
  
What the fuck? "First of all, what the fuck," Matt started off. "Second of all, the only reason I have to 'alter my mind' is that my body is a traitor and won't relax around you because of--" Matt can't say _Stick_ or _every man who wanted to fuck me up and thought I'd be a squishy little victim because I'm blind_ or _how much larger than me you are and how if I let my guard down you could kill me_ or _you're a literal cold-blooded murderer_ , so instead he says, "Reasons. Bad...reasons. Bad things. But--it's just my body that doesn't trust you. It's not me. I would never have tried to make myself relax around you if I didn't. It's just a malfunction," he says, leaning forward to press his head against Frank's chest, feel the faint vibrations of his heartbeat and breathing.  
  
"The mind controls the body. I got some extra help controlling my mind, that's all," Matt said. "And furthermore, third of all, I have the ability to give consent for my future selves with altered ability to determine for themselves consent. It's like a medical proxy, but for sex. And even then, the mindset has triggers built in that peel away the blissfulness and the obedience right away if anything really bad happens. You're not going to hurt me. I know that. I can defend myself if you cross a line."  
  
Frank relaxes a tiny bit at that, and shifts, and the way he does makes the plug go just a tiny bit further into Matt, making him rock his hips and moan a little. "Fuck, Frank," he said. "I've been so fucking horny for the last two weeks, training my brain to want you even more than I did before. I haven't come to anything except as positive reinforcement. Fuck me, please. You can take me for a test run, play with me a little, see how much it's nicer for both of us."  
  
Frank's silent, but Matt can taste his erection on the air, so he squirms a little more on Frank's lap and lets his mouth fall open in want. He ignores his body's heartbeat going up and up and up. He's going to relax and trigger himself and everything will be fine.  
  
Frank says, slowly, "Sure, but we're not doing anything really special or different, and the second--the _second_ you're uncomfortable or scared or don't know what's happening, it stops, got that?"  
  
Matt nods. "Tell it to me again once I'm in that subspace," he adds. "I won't quite remember it properly otherwise."  
  
Frank's face does something odd, and Matt leans his head against Frank's neck, takes a deep breath, and says with his whole body crashing against an ocean, "I'm just Frank's slut," and there it goes, the waves of deep bliss and obedience and perfection pulling him under the sea, pressing him down onto his knees where sluts like him belong.

Everything went soft and hazy around the edges; Matt was butter melting in a hot pan, bacon fat sizzling and splattering, the low rustle of sheets against skin. His muscles felt like they were too limp to be of any use, and he almost fell, barely managing to pitch himself forward so instead he slumped against Frank's chest.  
  
_Frank_ , he thought, face curling happily. Frank was perfect. He wanted nothing else but Frank, to be close to him, to be fucked by him, to have Frank's hands on his face or in his ass or holding him down, to have Frank happy with him. His whole mind oriented towards Frank, his senses narrowed down to just Frank and him.  
  
His hips idly rubbed a little more against Frank as he fell deeper and deeper down the rabbit hole until he hit more-or-less consciousness again.  
  
"Hey, you with me?"  
  
That was a question. Matt was for answering questions like this, for obeying orders. He nodded, mouth opening, mouth slurring out " _Yes_."  
  
"...How are you feeling?"  
  
Matt moaned, plug rubbing up against everything inside, squirming. Before he had felt almost too full; now he felt almost empty, needing something Frank had put in there instead. " _Fu_ ck me, please," he said instead of anything else.  
  
"That's not really an answer," and now Frank sounds amused in spite of himself.  
  
"Warm," Matt says because Frank wants him to keep answering more and more. "An' heavy. You feel good," he adds, rubbing his face on Frank's chest. "Fuck me, please, I want it," he says, begging, riding the plug against Frank.  
  
"...What have you got in you?"  
  
Matt whined at the question, words seeming so far away, reaching down to push his pants off instead, show Frank. But then Frank repeated the question, now slightly alarmed, so Matt tilted his head and grabbed at the words the way he sometimes had to grab at the walls when he was hit really hard. " _P_ lug. Glass. In me. Not enough, please, Frank."  
  
Frank's dick twitched at that, Matt could hear it he was so focused, and Matt moaned again, starting to rock against him more and more.  
  
"Hey, slow down there," Frank said, half-scolding, half-amused. There was something dark creeping into his voice, a kind of in-charge I-make-the-rules-down aroma. Matt felt so happy this was working.  
  
Matt obediently stopped, biting his lip. It was a kind of torture, now that he was relaxed enough to enjoy being plugged, instead of being anxious. It teased him, reminded him that he wanted to be stretched by other things.  
  
He arched his back instead, trying to show how much he wanted this, Frank please please please.  
  
One of Frank's hands came out and rubbed against a nipple through his shirt. Matt bent over it for a second, gasping, and then arched his back again at the little _tsk-tsk_ noise Frank made.  
  
"Let me see you," he said, voice strange, cherishing and sadistic at the same time. "I need to see your face," he added, so Matt tried to pull his head more forward.  
  
"Good," he murmured, and Matt groaned at that, the way it sent ten thousand shocks all at once. "So good for me," and he had to writhe a little at that.  
  
"God, you're so pliable like this," Frank muttered, finger scraping over the nipple, and then the other hand came down to do the same thing. "Like dough. I could knead you, reshape you, make you do anything I wanted..."  
  
_Yes_ , thought Matt, loving how he was putty in Frank's hands, helpless.  
  
Frank paused, and then said in a different voice, straightening up, "You said that there were safeties worked in, this state of mind went away if anything you really didn't like happened."  
  
Matt tried to remember what he had said, and couldn't quite reach it, so he nodded instead.  
  
"Huh," Frank said, and twisted the nipples. Then, "I think I need to test that. So... _Matty_."  
  
Matt stiffened in shock--he didn't like that nickname from anyone who wasn't Foggy or his dad and his dad was dead--and suddenly everything was yanked away. He felt like Frank had thrown a bucket of ice water on him. Suddenly, before he could blink, he was back against a corner in the room, skin tight, heart pounding, shivering wildly.

"Matt?" Frank called.  
  
Matt forced himself to focus on it. "You happy now?" he asked, bitterly. He hated being called Matty by people who weren't Foggy. It either made him remember the smell of Dad's bloody corpse all over again, or it made him think of all the times Dad had called him that before he died, soothing Matt, calming him down from some stupid meltdown.  
  
(Or it made him think of Stick's low mocking voice, pissed at everything.)  
  
"I needed to be sure," Frank said after a second, not moving from the armchair. Matt realized that Frank was restraining himself, in case Matt needed space. It was kind of sweet, in a way.  
  
Matt made himself sit in a more relaxed, open way, ignoring his body's panic. It was just a test. Frank tested everything to make sure it held; ropes, handcuffs, boundaries. It was just like that. He was just making sure Matt could snap back out of it, defend himself.  
  
Maybe he didn't realize how awful Matt felt now, though, icy and skin-starved and numb all over.  
  
"More of the same?" Matt asked, not sure of how to put the words better. His teeth chattered from phantom cold.  
  
An awkward silence. "You sure?" Frank asked.  
  
"Well, I feel like shit, and in that state I know I won't," Matt retorted, then made himself take a deep breath.  
  
Frank seemed to be studying him, and said softly, "How can I make it up to you?"  
  
Matt bit his lip, thinking, and then said, "Play more with my other self, it'll make me feel like this night wasn't just a waste. Don't tease me."  
  
Frank arched an eyebrow--Matt could hear it--and then said, "Well, if you're sure."  
  
"I'm sure," Matt snapped, bravado and pride winning out over lizard-brain fear. He took a deeper breath, said, "I'm just Frank's slut," and his brain swooped low as he changed gears.  
  
Everything was soft and sweet again, now, the whole world that wasn't him or Frank muted and far away. There was nothing to worry about except being good for Frank.  
  
"Hey honey, you okay?" Frank called, and Matt's body quivered, orienting itself towards him. He shifted to be on his knees instead, nodding.  
  
"Come over here," Frank said, shifting in the chair.  
  
Matt started to get up to walk, except Frank clucked his tongue and said instead, "No, crawl."  
  
Matt went back down immediately and crawled over to Frank, the plug making him whimper as he moved a limb and it brushed over his prostate.  
  
Frank leaned down, and said, "Come on, get up here," and Matt did, draping himself happily over Frank, sighing as he got back to the warm solid body, getting the touch he craved.  
  
Frank's hands stroked over his back, his shoulders, his hair. Matt's eyelids fluttered, body limp and heavy-feeling.  
  
"Better now, sweetheart?" Frank murmured, and seemed to freeze up for a moment. Matt nodded. He liked this so much better than having to fight his own body to calm down. He fought everybody all the time. Some time out of the ring was good.  
  
"You don't mind the pet names like this?" Frank's voice sounded odd.  
  
"No," Matt said, because it was the truth. "I want everything you'll give me." He knew that when he wasn't like this he didn't like pet names, they reminded him of Elektra and those three or four older boys from the orphanage with greedy hands, but that was distant and faint and irrelevant.  
  
Frank's heart did something strange at that, and then he muttered, "Christ, I want so much," and Matt smiled and burrowed even more into him. He wanted to be cocooned in Frank's arms forever, like this, without all his ever-present terrors clouding his mind.  
  
Frank's hands kept petting him, but never getting to his ass, where he really wanted them. Matt wriggled his ass a little, trying to give him the hint.  
  
"That's what you want, huh?" Frank asked, voice sounding like he was smirking a little.  
  
Matt nodded, hopeful.  
  
Frank went still, thumbs working at Matt's lower back, and then he said, "You like a lot of things like this that you don't otherwise."  
  
Matt nodded.  
  
"You think you'd like being carried? Or would you rather crawl?"  
  
Matt shrugged. He wasn't for deciding things, not like this.  
  
Frank stood up then, saying "Well, let's see," and _picking Matt up_.  
  
Matt knew instantly that in the other state of mind he would not like this, but now he did, being reminded of just how much _bigger_ Frank was. How Matt didn't have to be the strong one standing tall.  
  
But like this it was just nice. Sweet. Protective. Matt curled even more into Frank's chest, making a quiet little happy noise in his throat.  
  
Frank seemed surprised, but definitely pleased, the smell of his cock getting stronger. Matt's mouth watered, almost drooling, and he had to lick it clean before it could.  
  
They got to the bed--nicer than the usual in his safehouses with three huge mattresses stacked on top of each other and clean, soft microfiber sheets, Matt had picked this one for a reason--and Frank carefully deposited Matt on top.  
  
He made a noise of contentment and stretched out a little on the bed. Frank stood over him, staring; Matt could tell by his face, but not what he was staring at.  
  
Then he said, "Ground rules."  
  
Matt stopped squirming and listened. Rules were important.  
  
"I'm in charge, right?"  
  
Matt nodded.  
  
"So I get to tell you what to do."  
  
Matt nodded again.  
  
"So I'm going to tell you this. Listen closely."  
  
Matt wriggled closer and focused hard.  
  
"You listening?"  
  
Matt nodded.  
  
"I want you--no, I'm ordering you to say, or indicate, if anything feels bad. Even if it's not as bad as the nickname, or enough to snap you out of it. But anything feels bad, you say so, even if you think--your other mindset would think that it's not important. I'm in charge, so I get to decide what's important, got it?"  
  
Matt nodded.  
  
Frank paused, and then added, quietly, "And you didn't have to do any of this for me. I liked you just fine as you were."  
  
"I wanna," Matt said, voice slipping around, difficult to articulate, "Wanna be good. For you. I'm terrible and every time I try to be good by myself I fail and people leave. But like this you won't leave because I can't be bad."  
  
Matt hoped he had gotten through.  
  
Frank's voice went very soft and gentle at that, like a fleece blanket, as he said, "Oh _Matt_."  
  
Matt frowned. He didn't want Frank to be upset.  
  
"I'm not mad," Frank said. "Just--Matt. I think you're good all the time, that's why I want you so much. Because you're good, you're _so_ good. So good for me."  
  
Matt squirmed at that, low waves of bliss crashing over him.  
  
Frank seemed to shake out of whatever mood he'd gotten put into. "You said play with you more. You okay with sleeping with that plug in?"  
  
Matt moaned at the idea, but then Frank's hands came down low. "I could make you, like this. But I won't," and then, more firmly, "Take off your clothes. Let's play a little."  
  
Matt grinned and started to strip off the rest, haphazardly tossing the clothes to the ground. This was going to be _fun_ , pure, unadulterated fun.

Frank's hands came down, rubbing over Matt's nipples almost immediately, and Matt arched his back and made little noises.  
  
Then his voice came, gravel-rough, saying "Turn over, face on the mattress, show me that plug," and Matt did, body cooperating, loose and ready for anything.  
  
Frank's hands came down, teasing, almost tickling the backs of his thighs. Matt squirmed involuntarily, giggling, and then moaned as Frank tapped the base. His hands pulled at the plug, in an out, twisting it slowly and curiously, Matt trying to stay still for Frank and utterly failing.  
  
Frank pulled the plug all the way out with a wet _pop_ noise and Matt whined, slumping down onto his forearms, empty and cold. Frank stood there, still, head pointed towards Matt. Matt waited.  
  
"You cleaned yourself out more than usual, didn't you?" Frank asked, his voice fond but also--anticipatory?  
  
Matt nodded. He had.  
  
"Then I can do this," Frank said, walking around to face Matt, squatting down, and suddenly the plug was in Matt's face, smelling of lube and sweat.  
  
Matt blinked, unsure, and then Frank elaborated, "Open up," and Matt's mouth fell wide open, and then Frank pushed the plug in. "Close."  
  
Matt's mouth closed. He tasted himself and nothing gross on the plug, but it was still somehow utterly humbling, making him squirm all over.  
  
"Good boy," Frank murmured, his voice thick with desire. Matt could smell his cock more strongly now, making Matt quiver. "What a perfect good boy you are for me," and Matt's back arched.  
  
"Lick it clean," Frank said, and Matt did, sucking on it to get everything off. Frank's hands stroked his hair, and then he held up one palm, and said, "Out."  
  
Matt carefully put the plug in his hand. Frank put it down on the floor somewhere, and then both hands resumed petting Matt, making him sigh and relax.  
  
"See?" Frank asked, standing up. "See what a good boy you are? You did that so well, just for me. I mean what I say, Matt. You're so good."  
  
Matt blushed, happy and embarrassed.  
  
"Say it back to me," Frank insisted. "Say that you're a good boy."  
  
"I'm your good boy," Matt murmured, slurring every syllable.  
  
" _Good_ boy," Frank said, and then, getting more and more into his own headspace where he wanted to boss Matt around more than usual, he drew Matt closer to his cock. "Show me if you want to suck me off."  
  
Matt whined--he wanted it so bad--and made little begging noises.  
  
"Show me more," Frank said. "Keep being good."  
  
Matt's head went forward and he started to mouth at Frank through his pants, drooling on them, licking desperately. He hadn't been able to come at all recently without thinking of Frank's cock; one of the conditioning elements of the _Cock Addiction_ file was to make thinking about cock a necessary condition to orgasm.  
  
Frank groaned, and then undid his pants, and held Matt's head by his hair just an inch away from the head.  
  
"You really want this? How much?"  
  
" _Every_ thing," Matt said. "All of it. Fuck me, fuck my _face_ , please Frank, I want it so bad, I can't come anymore without thinking about your cock..."  
  
Frank groaned again, his voice full of pure want, and said, "Good boy, now you get it," and lowered Matt onto his cock, adding in, "Oh, _sweetheart_ , there you go, you've got it, oh that's perfect."  
  
Matt blushed shyly and started to suck and swallow around it and move his lips and tongue, and Frank threw his head back and then, body buzzing with tension, started to slowly fuck Matt's face, saying sweet nothings like "My perfect good boy" and "Those lips should be illegal" the whole time.  
  
He never sped up, teasing Matt and him both, but the slow, deep strokes made Matt's eyes slide shut, his hands long to prep himself. When Frank finally came, some of it leaked onto Matt's lips, and he licked them greedily.  
  
"Fuck, you really _are_ my slut like this, aren't you," Frank said, sounding vaguely shell-shocked. "My good, lovely, sweetheart slut. I'm the luckiest man on earth."  
  
Matt's whole skin was on fire, his mouth open, his nerves singing at the praise. He wanted so badly to keep pleasing Frank, keep doing the right things.  
  
"Right, now let's make _you_ come," Frank said, and flipped Matt over like Matt weighed nothing.

Matt writhed as Frank's hands came down, hooking into Matt's ass, spreading and scissoring and squelching.  
  
"...Explain what you mean by you can't come without thinking about my cock," Frank said, casually rubbing just next to Matt's prostate.  
  
Matt's voice sounded dreamy even to him. "I can't come without thinking about your cock. The--there's--" it was difficult to talk, with Frank's calloused fingers massaging his prostate.  
  
"Spit it out."  
  
"In the Cock Addiction part, there's--positive reinforcement, orgasms become dependent on, on, thinking about cock, add-on makes it a specific cock. Your cock."  
  
Frank stopped what he was doing. Matt's hips moved, trying to fuck back onto his now-still hand, Frank's other hand came down to grab onto his hips and he stopped, and then Frank's voice sounded hoarse with desire.  
  
"You hypnotized yourself so that the only way you can orgasm is by thinking about my cock?"  
  
"Yes," and Matt squirmed back, trying to chase his fingers. "Frank, please," he begged, not above it in this state.  
  
Frank stood over him, cock hardening again. Matt moaned at the smell.  
  
"You're so dedicated, aren't you," Frank said, one hand coming down and smacking Matt's ass, making him jump and whine.  
  
"You're just so utterly devoted to becoming my slut," and between each word another hard spank, working Matt up even more. "You really threw yourself into this."  
  
Matt nodded. He had, he wanted it so bad. He always wanted to be the best at things: lawyer, friend, slut.  
  
Matt squeaked involuntarily as one of Frank's slaps hit his hole instead of the meat of his ass, and then made more high-pitched noises as Frank hit that spot again and again, making it feel puffy and swollen shut.  
  
"I wonder if that would be a good punishment," Frank said idly. "Slap your hole another twenty times and put that plug back into you. It's glass, right?"  
  
It took Matt a minute of thinking, but he nodded.  
  
"Then I could put it in the freezer first," Frank mused. "Make you wear it whenever you whined about your ass being too warm."  
  
Matt wriggled and moaned at that, feeling hot with humiliation all over, his cock twitching.  
  
"Or," Frank said, "I could spank you closed and not let you even touch my cock. Spend a whole session jerking off right next to your face, close enough for you to taste, close enough for you to feel the heat, but no way of touching it. I could come on your hair and your face and make you stay still and let it dry there, couldn't I?"  
  
Matt sobbed at the idea, the best kind of torture.  
  
Frank's hand pulled on his hair. " _Couldn't I_?" he snarled.  
  
Matt said, eyes rolling back, "Oh, Frank, fuck, please, yes you could, you can do anything you want with me!"  
  
"I could order you to stay still and be a good boy and get only the _smell_ of my cock and you'd _do it_?"  
  
"Yes, Frank, anything, anything you want, anything for you, I'm your slut," and Matt hoped Frank wouldn't do that, it would be so hard to stay still, he wanted so much.  
  
Frank released his hair, bent over Matt, and kissed him hard. "I'm too nice tonight," he said. "I think I'll fuck you instead. But maybe another day."  
  
Matt moaned at the prospect.  
  
Frank positioned himself and started slowly fucking Matt, making him feel sparks of electricity down his spine.  
  
"Good boy," he said abruptly. "You're so good for me, taking my cock like this. Doing what I want. Being so, so dedicated."  
  
Matt blushed, a smile spreading across his face.  
  
"Think about it," Frank said softly. "Whatever you need to think about to come, think about it. Because pretty soon I want you to come."  
  
Matt obeyed; he thought about Frank's cock, and how it smelled, and how part of Matt heard it whenever Frank moved in just underwear or sweatpants, and how it tasted, and how it fit just a little too thick in his mouth, and how he loved being fucked by it, and how he wanted to sit on the floor, with Frank on his computer, and have it in his throat, just sitting there, waiting for Frank to casually tell Matt to go to the base and hold that position, for hours maybe, to piss or come in his mouth, either way.  
  
Matt's body tensed up and up, getting closer and closer, and then Frank's hands came down and squeezed his nipples hard and Frank said, "Come right now, sweetheart," and Matt threw his head back and gasped and came.  
  
Frank came just enough after for Matt to feel every single drop of it spilling out of him. He shut his eyes.  
  
"This resets after you sleep, doesn't it?" Frank asked.  
  
"Yeah," Matt said, sliding into drowsiness. "Safety. Just in case."  
  
"Good job, Matt," Frank said, and kissed him until Matt was out of breath. "Sleep well."  
  
"Yes, Frank," Matt sighed out, and blissfully obeyed.


End file.
